Old Man Yama
by Roxius
Summary: Kyoraku reminiscences and considers the future in the aftermath of the Quincy attack. Ties into chapter 515 of the manga.


"Does it fit, Captain Kyoraku?"

Shunsui raised his hand to his face, lightly touching the small patch of fabric that he would have to wear for the rest of his life. It felt so alien. Unfortunately, he had no choice in the matter. He figured he would eventually grow accustomed to its rough texture rubbing against his skin. Looking up at the timid young nurse, Shunsui didn't even try to force one of his usual coy smiles.

"Yes, it fits quite well. Thank you very much."

"...Do you need anything else, Captain?" The nurse was clearly uncomfortable being around him, considering the circumstances. Shunsui didn't blame her, and he knew she had many other patients to tend to, so he shook his head in response.

"I'll be alright. You should probably get going; there's a lot of injured men and women out there that need your help."

"Y-Yes! Please, Let me know if you need anything else!" And with a speedy bow, the timid nurse spun around and took her leave. She slid the door open, and closed it behind her as quietly as she could. The sounds of trampling footsteps and banging medical trays could be heard from the hallway.

Shunsui threw the covers off, sat up, and flung his legs over the bed's edge. But he did not stand up. Instead, his thoughts started to drift off all on their own. It was so hard to believe. In such little time, they had lost more than half of their entire army of Shinigami. They had been humiliated several times over by those rogue Quincy; they survived, but it was still a defeat.

It would take over a hundred years to ever return the numbers to normal. Even then, in a world where the Shinigami had regained their former glory, Old Man Yama would still be dead. The people who had been comrades, friends, would be gone forever. Shunsui's eye would still be missing, as would Komamura's ear and Byakuya's zanpakuto. The ruins of buildings could be replaced with some time and effort, but the lost souls were gone forever.

Gone forever.

Shunsui shut his eye tight. He could see an old image of days long gone, reflecting inside his eyelid. It was a picture of a great and powerful man. His back wreathed in glorious flames that reached as high as the sky itself. Even though he had only seen it once as a child, Shunsui could still remember it so clearly. How every single brush stroke had been so carefully placed to create that immortal image. It was so difficult to stop staring at its intensity. He remembered how Old Man Yama had berated him for sneaking into the room to look at it. Old Man Yama had said it was a painting of a monster. Shunsui remembered what Yamamoto had told him when asked if the 'monster' would ever appear again.

"Then I probably won't be coming back."

Shunsui eventually figured out that the one in that picture was the Captain Commander himself. That information, unfortunately, didn't make his teacher's cryptic words easier to understand, though; if he was using his bankai, then why would he die? That didn't make any sense at all. Shunsui eventually forgot about this minor conflict and went on with his life for the next thousand years or so. Now, with the battle done and the dust settling, he had a brief time to contemplate over it. Yamamoto Genryusai was willing to die to protect Soul Society. And he did die, but not in the way he had intended. His bravery, his strength had been made a mockery of.

It was hard for Shunsui to imagine just how his father-figure must have felt in his last moments. As he was struck down by the enemy leader, he may have been lamenting his own failures as a leader, believing that he would soon be followed by many more Shinigami. He couldn't get a proper burial like he deserved. Nothing of his legacy was left behind in the wake of the Quincies' attack. It was almost too much to bear thinking about.

Shunsui took a deep breath, his chest shuddering. He took a few minutes to collect himself. He wasn't going to cry; he was too damn old for that. He felt lost, though.

However, he did know one thing. Something clear as day. Yamamoto was someone, when it came down to it, that he deeply respected with his whole soul. Old Man Yama was someone that he should take an example from, and keep his memory alive for. Shunsui needed to consider what that grumpy old geezer would have done in a situation like this, in the wake of the aftermath.

It didn't take too long to figure it out.

'I should go and see the others...they're probably back in the meeting room, sobbing like babies over his sword...'

Shunsui finally got onto his feet. They needed to begin preparing for a counterattack as soon as possible.


End file.
